The Game of Mab
by Remo Con
Summary: SLASH! 'Dost thou love me' '...of course I love thee.' The past and the present are all the same to Queen Mab, all for her amusment. But nevertheless, this time it will be different. BenvolioMercutio
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou copyright? Why dost it not lie in my possession? Has it to do with my name? Shall I change it to Shakespeare and then possess all that I desire?**

**Too bad it wouldn't actually work that way. **

**So no.** **I claim no ownership to Romeo and Juliet…not that I want them, mind you. Are Benvolio and Mercutio for sale? **

_**Prologue: Dreams of Repetition and the Endless Cycle of Waking**_

"_Dost thou love me?" he asked. He had to know before the shadow disappeared on him once more, leaving only the cold darkness this dream world afforded him._

"_Nay." But he didn't believe the shadow. It was smiling, it could be such a silly shadow sometimes, and it could be such a lying shadow as well._

"_Doest thou love me?" he questioned again. He could already feel the shadow fading away._

"_Nay." But he refused to accept that. It could not be true. The shadow would not visit him night after night if that was true. Surely not. He had to try again. He had to hear the shadow speak the truth this night._

"_Dost thou love me?" It was his last chance, already the shadow was fading. Moments were left, and then it would be gone for another night. "Dost thou love me!"_

"_My mad Benvolio, dost thou need to ask thy Mercutio? Of course I love thee."_

"_Then do not leave me!" Benvolio cried. _

"_Dearest, I have no choice in the matter. But a change in the world I sense. Do not fear our parting this night, for I believe this dream dance Queen Mab has set us in comes to a close. Dear Benvolio, look for me now in the light of day, for the shadows seem to be lifting."_

"_No! Please! Do not go!" he cried. But it was too late. The shadow, whom he loved more than anything, was gone._

……………………………………………****

Benvolio opened his eyes. He was still laying his bed from the comfort of his new home in Verona, Italy and it was still painfully obviously night.

"Damn time zones," he mumbled quietly. He could get up and watch some television he reasoned. Some nice Italian television.

He groaned and shut his eyes again. It wasn't enough that ever since coming to Verona exactly a month from tomorrow he had been having bizarre dreams, dreams he didn't care to think about –ever. It wasn't enough that he had left all his friends back at home in Miami, Florida. No, apparently fate really had it out for him, because now he couldn't even watch his favorite shows. At least, he couldn't watch them and comprehend what was being said.

He was really looking forward to starting school tomorrow. All those nice kids, all fluent in Italian.

It was times like this that he wished desperately that his parents were teachers, or police officers, or something that didn't follow orders from CEO's who had better things to do than cater to the needs to teenagers and had no problem sending it's employee's to a far off country.

He yawned. Might as well try and fall back asleep, he reasoned. There would be plenty of time to worry, grumble, and lay out all the teenage angst he could onto his parents.

He was sure they would appreciate it, and even if it didn't get him back to Miami, chances were if he laid it on thick enough, he could mange to get grounded. What better excuse to not take part in any school activities?

"Perfect," he muttered, pulling the covers up higher over him, yawning again.

Perhaps he could simply count sheep. That was supposed to bore you to sleep.

All right then. One…two…three…four…five…

"Mercutio," he mumbled as he slid peacefully back into dreamland.

……………………………………………****

Queen Mab watched in delight. It was all set in place, everyone was where they were supposed to be and everything was right on schedule. Tomorrow, she thought gleefully, would bring more fun than she had had in years.

It was always nice when people behaved like the good little pawns they were supposed to be. And when the pawns had a sense of humor like Mercutio did, she was more than ready to make them happy.

But only after she'd had her fun.

This was going to be simply amazing…provided, of course, that no one got in her way. She would have to keep a better eye on Romeo and Juliet this time.

**Author Notes: Well, this is certainly a new genre for me. This could become very ugly. A modernized Shakespeare fic…we must tread carefully, precious, or we'll take a tumble from which we will not return. I think I'll rather enjoy developing my Mab, however, and who knows, maybe someone will even be patient enough to wait this story out with me. –shrugs- miracles can happen. So please, if you've read this, please review and let me know what you think. Comment, complaints, criticism? I think that we can look for the next update next Monday…assuming, of course, that anyone reads this. If not, then I will have the next update on Monday for myself. –grins- All right, enough babbling. Please review! -Remo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou copyright? Why dost it not lie in my possession? Has it to do with my name? Shall I change it to Shakespeare and then possess all that I desire?**

**Too bad it wouldn't actually work that way. **

**So no.** **I claim no ownership to Romeo and Juliet…not that I want them, mind you. Are Benvolio and Mercutio for sale? **

_Chapter 1: Fantasizing of a Future_

His parents were ecstatic. In addition to the enormous sums of money the family would now be receiving, they were back in the country of their roots. "We may even run into distant family members," his father had enthused.

But since Benvolio was only too aware that even if some random relative did appear he wouldn't be able to carry on a conversation with them, he failed to be nearly as happy.

And no matter what his darling parents claimed, he was experiencing no sense of adventure. All he felt looking at his new school was a strong desire to grab the nearest boat and row his way back to Miami. If Columbus could find America, so could Benvolio.

Of course, Benvolio couldn't even find a goodnight's sleep. So maybe not.

Everyone else going inside seemed happy enough- but then, everyone else had friends to talk to. And, looking down at his watch, everyone else was going to be on time. The principal would be impressed, he was sure. Not only was he incapable of speaking with anyone in the school, he probably wouldn't even manage to be on time to do it.

He betted the public schools opened later. What on earth possessed you two to send me to a Catholic school? Benvolio raged silently at his parents. And it wasn't just any Catholic school –as he had been told over and over- it was the most prestigious Catholic school in the entire country, which was saying something since the country of Vatican City was in the capital. He had never thought he'd be wearing a uniform, much less one composed of dark red slacks and a white dress shirt with a tie matching the eyesore of the pants.

With a final, over exaggerated sigh, Benvolio shifted his backpack on his shoulder and shuffled off, dragging his feet in a way he hoped let everyone know he in no way wanted to be here. Or anywhere near here, for that matter.

In some ways, schools were schools no matter where you went. Granted, yes, this building was significantly smaller than his old school, and so the student population adjusted accordingly. But it seemed that no matter the school, the secretary never really wanted to help him, the stream of irritated Italian making this one all the more imposing. And even if he knew he was in trouble, starting off the school year in the principal's office was disturbing at a gut level.

He took a seat right beside the door with one very simple thought in mind: if the secretary didn't point him to the principal's door in five minutes he was ducking out. Roaming the streets of Verona seemed very appealing right now.

Half an eye on the secretary, the focus of his gaze remained solidly on the clock behind her. Why was it the harder you stared at a clock, the slower the minutes passed by? He was positive he had been sitting for an eternity two minutes later when some intercom thing buzzed, spewed out some gibberish, and the intimidating woman pointed solemnly to the principal's office.

Benvolio admitted he may have gulped a little. The funeral march played dauntingly in his head as he grasped the doorknob and, pushing the door open, took a step into the smaller office.

"Ah, Benvolio, I am glad to see that you have arrived well," the principal said in heavily accented English. For a moment Benvolio was reminded alarmingly of his old principal. Same growing bald spot on the top of the head, same bulging gut, same squinty eyes- nearly the same disgusting middle aged man.

"Yes, well, my schedule came with a note saying to see you first thing," Benvolio replied uncomfortably, fiddling with the strap on his backpack.

"Please, sit down," the principal prodded, pointing at one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

"No, that's all right."

"I insist that you sit down," the principal said quite firmly. It would probably be best that in the event he one day _had_ to piss this man off, it be over something less trivial. He sat.

"Good," the principal smiled, suddenly much more cheerful. Apparently he was easy to please. "Now, as you know I am Principal Escalus Prince-" Benvolio wondered what kind of puns the students used behind his back "– and while Headmaster Lawrence could not be here, he extends to you his welcome. Since you are new and a bit…how shall we say…out of sync with your classmates, you may come to me with any of your problems. However-"

And this was the part where he was less than subtly told that even though he was welcome at anytime, it would really be best if he never showed up in this office again. Benvolio was positive.

"However, since I can not be with you in all of your classes, I have taken the liberty of assigning you a buddy," Mr. Prince finished up, clearly delighted with himself.

"A…buddy?" Benvolio repeated, confused. Like a friend? This stank of pity and he didn't like it one bit. Oh poor American boy, he can't speak Italian…

"Yes," the principal agreed, still giddy with his revelation. "A buddy."

"I'm sorry," Benvolio began. He would not accept charity. "But I don't-"

"Want me? I'm wounded," a voice cut in smoothly. Benvolio jumped.

"I'm sorry, did I startle you?"

No way…

"You," Benvolio gasped.

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"_Are not thou worried?" Benvolio hissed while Mercutio wrapped his arms around the distraught man from behind. "If we are caught-"_

"_Nay, I worry not. For I would gladly give my life for a mere second with my Benvolio," Mercutio replied passionately, holding Benvolio all the tighter._

_In the shadows of the moon, far and away from where any person dwelled, here and only here were they allowed to meet in the way they wished._

"_This will end," Benvolio mourned for the future._

"_By thy hand or word?" Mercutio murmured the question, kissing Benvolio's neck just so._

"_Nay," Benvolio moaned. "For I too would die gladly for a mere moment with my Mercutio."_

"_Then let such sad thoughts be. Better things can be done with this time, I think."_

"Really," Mab said to the fairies kneeled at her by her feet. "They were such a promising couple."

"Yes, my lady," they all murmured in agreement, fearful of her displeasure. Mab was quite proud of herself. After all, not very many people could say that they had wormed their way up the social ladder from midwife to genuine queen, name or not. And even fewer fairies.

"So, what shall be done differently this time?" she asked her minions for the thousandth time.

"Romeo and Juliet will be kept in line," they answered faithfully.

"But what is the most important thing to keep and eye on?" she inquired. This part had to be right.

"Tybalt is to be watched at all times," they chanted back to her.

"Good," she smiled in satisfaction. "Now go. You have your mission."

So. Things were off to a good start. It was now her minions job to see the next phase through.

"You had better not screw this up or I promise you, there will be hell to pay," she called to their retreating backs.

They cringed. She meant it literally.

"Ah," she cooed to herself. "The beauty of power."

**Authors Notes: Well, I certainly hope this chapter was worth everyone's wait. It had now been many, many Mondays indeed since I last promised and update, and now it's not even a Monday but a Saturday, and I am sorry. But on the bright side, I did finish the story that I put this one on hold for, and it is summer, so the next update will probably be sooner. After all, having finally finished this chapter, I actually really want to write the next one. But since I'm terminally lazy, I can't make any guarantees. Anyway, I hope you'll all review with your comments, criticisms, etc. And Thank You for all the review on the prologue. Remo.**

**Zaurak: **Even though it's been, er, four months since you reviewed, I know what you mean. Shakespeare's saving grace in my mind was the slash possibilities in my mind. And now all I can do is sit back and wait, hoping you still want to read this…


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou copyright? Why dost it not lie in my possession? Has it to do with my name? Shall I change it to Shakespeare and then possess all that I desire?**

**Too bad it wouldn't actually work that way. **

**So no.** **I claim no ownership to Romeo and Juliet…not that I want them, mind you. Are Benvolio and Mercutio for sale? **

_Chapter Two:_

_First Re-Meeting_

Dreams were figments of a sleeping mind's imagination. That was all. Still, as a firm realist, Benvolio couldn't deny that his most persistent dream was standing beside him.

Mostly.

"I hesitate to say me at running the risk of sounded like a simple minded cliché, but you, I assume, are Benvolio Montague. Mr. Prince has already told you about me, I see," Mercutio said cheerfully.

He wasn't strictly the dream. Small things weren't quite right. His hair was lighter and it appeared to be wavier, though pulled back in a proper pony tail it was hard to tell. And he was a bit thinner than the dream, less muscular perhaps. But still…it was creepy.

Benvolio didn't do creepy.

"I did not do any such thing," Mr. Prince said stiffly, continuing in broken English for Benvolio's benefit.

"Really?" Mercutio said, sounding positively delighted. "So we've already got a connection, you and I."

"I wouldn't say that," Benvolio muttered, feeling his face turning pink. He had a sinking feeling that whatever happened next was not going to be good.

"My name's Mercutio Prince. Call me Mercutio unless annoying loudmouth strikes your fancy as the two are more or less synonymous," the whirlwind of words spouted off in one breath, smiling at Benvolio all the while.

Either he was going to hate this guy, or he'd found his new best friend.

"That's all well and good, but why're you here?" Benvolio asked after a moment. The sunny disposition of Mercutio set against the stern, commanding nature of the principal was a bit awkward at best.

"It may have occurred to you that the vast majority of people in Italy tend to speak Italian, which if I understand correctly, you don't." Mercutio looked for confirmation. Benvolio nodded, sighing.

"So rather than assign you an older sort of person, with whom you'd have nothing in common and would merely hinder your social development at this fine school, you've been stuck with me as your translator. I promise to mangle only half your sentences for a laugh."

"Thank you," Benvolio said dryly. "I feel at home already."

"I try," Mercutio said modestly.

"Now that introductions are done, time to get to class, I think," Mr. Prince said in a manner that was a little less suggestive and a whole lot more, 'Get the hell out of my office, I don't want to deal with you anymore.'

"But of course, we'd hate to miss more of history than we already have," Mercutio agreed, winking at Benvolio who promptly stared determinedly at the floor. He refused to be bothered by this guy. It just wasn't going to work out if he blushed at every little thing, especially since he had previously considered himself to be the unflappable sort.

Of course, that had been in America where he'd had numerous people to converse with, should he so have desired. (Which he hadn't)

All right, maybe the move had flapped him a little. Having a grand total of three and a half people to speak with made him a tad bit uncomfortable.

"Come, Benvolio, off we go into the harsh world of high school, leaving dear cousin to fiddle with paper work at his desk," Mercutio declared, taking Benvolio's hand and pulling him out of the chair and out the door, striding down the hallway and toward the staircase in the middle of the hall.

"The principal's your cousin?" Benvolio had to ask once they were out of hearing range of the office and Mercutio had finally slowed down- but hadn't his hand.

"Well surely the shared last name gave away relation, if not a specific one," Mercutio said easily.

"I try not to draw conclusions," Benvolio shrugged.

"So then you haven't even wondered why I speak flawless English, have you?" Mercutio sounded disappointed.

"Nope. Why question a good thing?"

"Is it a good thing?" Mercutio asked slyly.

"Well," Benvolio answered wryly, "There's a certain bonus to having someone to talk to. I've never really master the art of pantomime."

Mercutio laughed. "Look at it this way; you should pass English with flying colors."

"I make no guarantee, especially since I suspect there'll be translations involving Italian, which could pose a problem."

"Well then I guess you're going to have learn Italian, aren't you?"

"I guess I will," Benvolio agreed, smiling slightly. His guide smiled in return and for a few moments they walked in comfortable silence. Then-

"Stop," Mercutio said, out of the blue. Benvolio stumbled slightly, crashing into him. Mercutio clutched his hand tighter and turned around to steady the smaller boy.

"It'd be bad form to fall down the stairs your first day of school," Mercutio teased lightly.

"I'll hold off 'til tomorrow then," Benvolio returned sarcastically, "And keep on the look out for sudden stops in staircases until then."

"I apologize for my abruptness," Mercutio said dramatically. "Let me make it up to you by taking this time to explain our tiny campus to you."

"We had to stop in the middle of a staircase for you to do that?" Benvolio rolled his eyes.

"Well once we made it onto the floor, we'd be subject to the teachers' whims, and they're all rather tetchy about uncouth students talking while they are imparting all their knowledge and wisdom," Mercutio explained, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Uncouth?" Benvolio raised his eyebrow.

"Didn't you know? As teenagers we have no sense of common decency, common sense, or anything that makes a person civilized. We don't get that until we're out of college," Mercutio said, giving into the grin. "Anything you're thinking about the teachers now, you're wrong. They're worse. And only a couple teachers in the entire school are not a nun or priest or something."

"Or something?"

"The librarian's a monk."

"Ah."

"The school's set up really simply, four stories, each grade has all the required classes on their floor, freshmen on the first floor and going up from their, so we're on the top floor. There's a field behind the main building used for all the sports they can and phys. ed. Connected to the left of the main building is the art wing where you have all the electives and to the right is the recently built cafeteria and small- and I emphasize small- indoor gym," Mercutio informed him.

"So basically it would take true talent to get lost," Benvolio observed.

"If you do, I promise whatever derogatory nickname we come up with, it'll be at least half-way witty," Mercutio cracked. Benvolio grinned slightly.

"Thanks, appreciate small favors."

"No problem."

"So to class now?"

"Nah, the period must be almost over. Let's just wait for the bell and go to second block instead," Mercutio decided offhandedly.

"Sounds good to me." He wasn't in any rush. And besides- he was enjoying himself.

Maybe a little creepy was good now and again.

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"_I am tired," Benvolio whispered to the grave. "Would thou agree I may sleep now? Would thou agree that I am completed now with this grievous lot?"_

_He fell silent for a moment, clutching the grass beneath him in hand._

"_Mercutio," he cried in anguish, his breath ragged, tears burning his eyes._

"_Would thou agree I may see thee once more?" he choked._

_And, invisible, another wept with him._

"_Yes," Mercutio whispered back. "Yes!"_

"So," Queen Mab said coolly, rewinding the picture now paused on her personal screen, "You are in place?"

"Yes ma'am," her faithful subordinate replied, kneeling. Mab looked at him.

"Well?" she prompted. Her voice echoed throughout the hall- everything seemed so much larger wit the minions away.

"The syllabus sucks," the subordinate said frankly, "Full of nothing but the worst abominations of the literary world."

"And this of any consequences to me?" Mab inquired, her tone turning to ice, wondering if she was going to have to look into replacements. And she thought after she had disposed of the last batch…apparently uselessness was catching.

"W-well, n-not per say," the subordinate stammered. "B-but I am in ch-charge of the school play."

"What is it?" Queen Mab demanded testily.

"Hamlet."

"That won't work."

"What?"

"You will be performing Romeo and Juliet, of course," Mab said, wondering why that was not exceedingly obvious.

"Why?" the subordinate asked, nailing another one into his coffin.

"You do know why you're at that school, don't you?" I want them to see it, of course! However," Mab added, her voice becoming deadly quiet, "None of them are to be in it. Do you understand? Especially not cast as themselves. We don't want any unpleasant…accidents."

"Yes, ma'am," the faithful subordinate said immediately.

"Now go," Queen Mab commanded, a wry smile coming onto her face." You have to get to class."

**Author's Notes: (dryly) I at this point, it's becoming something of a habit to update this fic every four months. Ah well, better every four months than not at all, I suppose. Sorry the chapters aren't longer, honestly I wrote this one in double Latin…but in a (slightly) interesting side note, the play my lovely school happens to be performing this years is Romeo and Juliet. So I might even be forced to update next week, in only to remove such horrendous scenes from my mind (Mercutio is being played by a woman! –insert sigh-). Anyway, thank you for all the reviews on chapter one, they were greatly appreciated. Hopefully someone will still be hanging around to review this one, too…Remo**

**Time-Again: **Not so much action this chapter, but a wee bit of romance. And next chapter there'll be some action. –laughs- After all, we're meeting most everyone else next chapter. Bring on the chaos! Erm, and maybe Dr. Frankenstein? –calls after Wolfe- Will she be coming back?


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